The Little Things...

Today is the start of a two week period where I will be entirely by myself. No kids, family or dogs. Just me. I want to make sure I relish these moments I have because, as we all know, this kind of freedom usually only comes when you are single, young, with no children.  Plus, I'm not even in my own home so doing little projects around the house is out of the question. So truly, this is time to myself.

The day, though not momentous, was indeed productive and meaningful.  My car window was fixed earlier than expected, I was able to get a special treat of a caramel mocha coffee with hazelnut flavoring at McDonald's and then went home all before 10am. 

My day proceeded with emails and, most importantly, prepping myself for a job I am interviewing for in Student Financial Aid.  I have not been in the field for some time, however, I found myself fascinated with the changes I had discovered to policies and procedures. It actually got me excited about the possibility of doing this type of work and working with the students all over again.  I am anxious for this opportunity to pan out.

This good feeling followed me throughout the rest of my day. I went to the post office and then to the cemetery.  This is the second time I've been to the cemetery since being back in Indiana.  I always visit my best friend's mother's grave first. "Sunshine" had a special place in my life. She was the first adult I had really known outside my family. She has been gone 8 yrs now. I can't believe it.  I stood at her grave with her parents' grave near by, as well.  I kissed my lips to my hand and gave it to her headstone. I can still hear her voice and her laugh. There is some guilt not living in Indiana any more. I can't watch over her grave like I used to for my best friend. I actually looked forward to visiting it and talking to her.  Remembering her fondly brought back that good feeling that had been passing through me today.  From her grave, I moved on to my brother's.

Standing at my brother's grave is very bittersweet. I know with all my heart that he is in a phenomenal place. The reason I know this is the day I learned of his death, I swore I heard his voice in my head saying "Koren, you are never going to believe what it's like here. It is so awesome I can't even describe it." It still doesn't take away the fact that 6 years later I want him to be with me here, in person.  I am just hoping that he is behind the scenes making a path for me that will get me out of this rough patch. That, in itself, brought a smile to my face.  While standing there, gazing down at his name and the pink bunny my daughter had brought last week, I realized I didn't have to hurry and be anywhere. I could plant myself (figuratively) and stay for awhile. 

The ground was wet so I got a trash bag from the car and sat on it facing my brother's headstone with the sun to my back. I picked the soft grass and tried to braid it. It's softness brought to mind the coarseness of Florida's grass and how Indiana grass was like soft carpet to me.  I watched ants wander up blades of grass and out of the dirt and one crawled on my knee. I had to remind myself that Indiana ants weren't the fire ant variety we have in Florida and I should not be alarmed. It was nice to just sit there, examining all the little things around me. It made me happy to know that if I wanted to, I could lie there all day if the feeling struck me. What else did I have to do?

After sitting there on my plastic bag for an undetermined amount of time, I decided to walk the majority of the cemetery.  What caught my attention was the tranquilness of the grass and trees surrounded by the constant movement, the traffic sounds and sights of the cars passing around the cemetery.  Didn't people recognize that all their busyness would come to a halt and soon they would potentially be here?  It was an ironic scene to me: the meaninglessness of the present to meaningfulness of the future. It was futile to try and rationalize it. I just turned my eyes to the sky and felt the sun's warmth. That was the only answer I needed.

From there, a quick run to Walmart. It had been so long since I had been in this Walmart. It was clean. Yes, clean. The same cannot be said for my Walmart back home. It was organized, too.  As I went to get the couple of items I needed, I bumped into a girl I've known since grammar school. It was nice to catch up, standing there, realizing internally, that I didn't have to rush. Imagine, no rushing. No dogs to walk or feed. No children to wrangle.  Just a conversation. An adult conversation, at that.  As we bid our good-byes and I headed to the check out, the best surprise waited for me there.  The cheap bottle of wine I had in my cart prompted my check out gal to ask for my ID. My ID!!!  I can't remember the last time I had that done.  I told her, at 42, she could check my ID anytime she wanted to. My highschool reunion is coming up. Either this was a good sign about my appearance, a fluke by an inexperienced Walmart associate or it could have been just a store policy, I didn't care. I was basking in it. It could have been worse. It could have been Preperation H I was purchasing and they needed a price check as my 7 year old whined about not getting some candy or gum. Yes, this was a good day.

As I drove out of the Walmart parking lot, I realized it was truly the small and what may seem like insignificant things that really added up to a glorious day. The fact that I have 10, working fingers to type this blog. The fact that I get to wear shorts today and the fact that I can even have one more day on this earth to write about is all meaningful. I wouldn't trade a thing.